


The Scarf

by Sarah_von_Krolock



Series: Green, green, green are all my dresses [7]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:17:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_von_Krolock/pseuds/Sarah_von_Krolock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She really likes his scarf, likes him in midgardian cloths. And you can do more with a scarf than simply just wear it around your neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scarf

She loves his ordinary clothes. She really adores him in these, how the leather fits him, how he moves in it. The black, thick fabric… it gives him a mixture of roughness, majestic, something strong and powerful. And the bit of green on it matches so wonderful to his eyes and when he wears his armour, the gold, the metal. She can get lost in that sight every time. But so much she loves him in those, she can also get used to the midgardian clothes. 

It is strange to see him in that, but interesting and he looks so neat and dashing in them. So fine. She is wondering if the Kings and Lords of Midgard are looking like he does now. She bites her lower lip as she watches him. His walk… he walks like a King does, every step tells of his hidden powers, every step is deliberate. His hair is longer now, reaching his shoulders. She bites her bottom lip even harder, licks with her tongue over it. She recognizes how her breath got heavy. He turns his head to her, his eyes; the grin on his face makes her breathless. His grin is charming and evil at the same time. It is the smile of a predator, telling everyone he could rip you into pieces within seconds and he only does not do so now because he likes to play with his prey. And she is gladly his prey, his only prey for now, forever and had always been. Pure mischief gleams in his bright green eyes as his gaze is resting on her, going up and down on her. The expression on his face tells her that he likes what he sees. His pretty, handsome and flawless face. Truly, he has changed. But whom would it not change by what he had gone through? His whole world had been burned down within seconds, his whole life so far based on lies, his life so far was an entire lie and then he was rejected by the one who claimed to be his father all these years, by the one who could have give him all the support he longed for with a single word. But he hasn´t. She has given him support but it wasn´t the one he desperately needed. He was an outcast his whole life, from the childhood he was taught to hate these monsters they once slaughtered and suddenly it turns out that he is one of those monster he learned to fear and to hate and to slaughter. Sure, it wasn´t the right way to extinguish a whole race just to erase his origin. But it was the right and only way for him in that moment. He was lost after that, everyone thought he died as he felt from the bridge, as he chooses to let go. But she could never think of it. He was the greatest magician in the whole universe, he couldn´t have died that simple. Instead of that he wandered through all the realms, through the whole Universe, gained more power, more knowledge, saw things some might not be even able to imagine. And he made a decision. He was once told that he was born to be a king. And so he will be. He will be king and she will be queen. That´ll be their destiny and now they are here on Midgard, dressing like those mortals only not to draw their attention on the outside, only to hide in disguise. And he is looking so damn… hot in these clothes…

He comes towards her, sitting next to her and for some seconds they both are watching his minions. How busy they are, busy like bees, busy to fulfil their duties and the commands of their master.

“You´re looking really fine in that… way of dressing.”

She smiles up to him. “You too… I could get used to it.” She lies a hand on his thigh, gently squeezing and stroking it before she´s playing with his scarf. She really likes that bit of clothes on him. That silky scarf in green and gold…

With a crooked smile he looks down to her. “I see how much you like it.”

“Do I only looking fine in that dressing?” She still plays with his scarf, leaning more over to him. Her smile reminds him of the one of a cat.

“Delicious… so delicious, I could eat you up.”

“Then why don´t you do it?”

He laughs a bit, lying an arm around her shoulders. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“If I would try it I would tell you that you can do more with a scarf than simply wearing it around your neck.”

Again he laughs a bit. “Oh, when did I turn you into a naughty girl?”

“Never. Because you only turned me into a naughty woman.”

“My naughty, naughty wife,” he grins, kissing her forehead and her cheek, enjoying the word wife on his tongue, to calling her wife, his wife. “I´m glad that you´re here, that you found me,” he whispers into her ear. “I have missed you.”

His confession is so low that she almost misses it. His breath at her ear is slowly and warm, his scent begins to making her feeling dizzy. “I thought I was dying every day without you, Loki… never leave me again.”

“Never again.”

“Promise me.”

“Promise.” He smiles at her, an honest, true smile.

She places a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, resting one hand on his chest and the other strokes through his hair. “You should get us somewhere where we are alone,” she whispers, kissing his earlobe, sucking it between her lips and drawing a sound of relish from him.

He chuckles low, drawing her a bit closer. “And why? Do you want to worship your husband? Do you want to fulfil your martial duties as my wife?”

“It´s never a duty for me,” she grins.

He raises up and taking her by her hand. “I´m sorry, that I can´t give you the palace, even a bed chamber, you deserve right now.”

“That doesn´t matter. As long as I am with you, everything is fine. I don´t even need a bed.”

He chuckles low. “Oh, my dear Sigyn, my sweet little Belladonna. What have I just done with you.”

“What you have done? Let me fallen in love with you so deeply that I would die if I would be ever separated from you again. Further, you have seduced me, my body and my mind; you once saved my life on a hunt, teaching me magic…”

“And I regret nothing.”

“Nor do I.”

A hand lies on her cheek, stroking it gently. Nothing else than love she can read in his eyes. He bends down to her, pressing his lips onto hers and closing his eyes like she does, drawing a soft sigh from her. He loves that sound from her, that small sound of small pleasure of her.

He pulls her closer as he starts to gliding with his tongue over her lips; a low moan of her name escapes his own. Another sound of relish escapes him as she puts her arms around his neck. How much he has missed it, how much he has missed her. The touch of her lips, her hands, the feeling of her arms around his neck, her body presses against his own.

She hears a low growl from him and a shiver runs down her spine. She knows that sound so well, she loves that sound. That sound that tells her that slowly the lust begins to crawl up in him, that special sound with his voice. Suddenly he breaks the kiss, his breath already a bit heavy. His lips slightly open, his eyes slowly darkening with lust. She feels how her knees getting weak at this sight.

He takes her by her wrist and pulls her with him. His steps are strong and hastily, determined. He just wants to be alone with her now, everything else has to wait. His first and most important duty is his wife. He pulls her with him as he walks through the room, down a corridor. His steps are telling her that he exactly knows where to go and no one would dare to stop him right now. The expression on his face tells everyone that they would have to fear a slow and painful death if they would interrupt or stop him now.

She have problems with following him, with his pace, she still is not used to those shoes those female mortals are wearing and she stumbles more than walking. She´s glad as he finally pushes her into a room and closing the door behind them. The room is dark, infrequent, just a small bed on one side and a washbasin on the other she can see. She spuns around to him and sees how he immediately takes off his cloak, throwing it on the ground. She stepps out of her shoes, coming towards him and stops him with undressing by lying a hand on his chest. “Slowly, my dear… good things come to those who wait, “ she smiles, “and I want to appreciate that look a few moments more.”

“You really like that mortal dressing, don´t you?” he grins down to her.

“Hmm… a little bit,” she smiles, slowly gliding her hands over his chest, over the vest and the shirt he´s wearing. She takes now both of her hands now, let her gaze wandering up and down on his figure. She takes one of his hands, loosening the cuff of his sleeve, doing the same on the other one. Her hands going upwards on his arms, feeling how strong they are. On his chest she slowly begins to open the vest, on button after the other. She´s shoving it over his shoulders, let it fallen to the ground.

He is standing still; doesn´t move and let her doing whatever she wants. If she wants to undress him, she should do it. He enjoys it, enjoys watching her and her hands on his body and how she undresses him, the intimation they share. His gaze never leaves her face while she takes off his tie and opens every single button of his shirt. He sees how she licks over her lips as she opens his shirt; how she is biting her bottom lip by what she sees, the relish on her face as she touches his bare chest, his skin and her fingertips wandering down to his belly. She looks up to him, a small smile on her open lips, her cheeks red. He adores her red cheeks, always have and always will. Before he can bend down to kiss her, placing his hands on her arms, she is fishing his scarf out of the pile of clothes on the ground, lying it around him and drawing him closer to her. Her smile reminds him of a cat who found a delicious little birdie. “You like that scarf, hm?”

“Oh yes… that´s a wonderful scarf… you have such an excellent taste.”

“That´s why I have married you,” he grins and finally kisses her, his lips devoures her mouth, shoving his tongue between her lips and his hands opening her dress, pulling it down. He can´t get enough of the feeling of her smooth skin under his hands, smooth and warm. Such a perfect skin, like alabaster, softer than fresh fallen snow, always warm. Simply flawless. And her lips… He remembers their first kiss, short and innocent, remembers how surprised he was as she suddenly kissed him in the gardens of his mo… of the woman who claimed to be his mother. In the night after another feast he led her into the gardens only to take some fresh air for a minute, to make her feeling a bit better for she seemed to be uncomfortable in the heated room, the loud music, the thunderous noises of people who sing and dance, laughing and drinking. He remembers as it was just yesterday. They were sitting on a bench; he showed her the flowers of the Belladonna who can heal and poisoning at the same time. He showed her the lilac-blue flowers and suddenly he felt her hand on his own, was too stunned as she places her lips on his. He had been paralyzed for a moment. Her lips were and still are so soft and warm, tasting so good. After he had tasted her lips he never wanted to taste anything else in his life. And their story had begun so innocently… Now he knew when he had begun to slowly fallen in love with her. It was the moment when she told him about her interest in magic, as she mentioned the magical books she had read. Afterwards he chuckles now over that situation ´cause his ´mother` asked immediately after Sigyn mentioned those special books if she should prepare the wedding invitations. How right his mother was… she has been always right. Right from the beginning when Sigyn visited the first time Gladsheim. Yes, he has been blind for his feelings for Sigyn. He didn´t had seen the forest for all the trees. If he had listened to her back then, maybe know everything would be different…

She brings him back into reality as her fingers are grabbing the waistband of his pants, open it and he can feel her warm fingers, her hand at his hardening member. Her fingers drawing a low, deep moan from his lips, a relished sound, pressing his hips more against her hand. His breath only came panting as her fingers began to stoke him, caressing him. He breaks the kiss, lying his head in the crook of her neck, his eyes closed his breath fast and hot, his grip at her arms got firmer. Small, little kisses her lips are placing on his neck, up and down his it, caressing the little spots behind and under his ear. She knows him so well… she knows so well how to increase his passion. It only takes seconds until she wears nothing anymore and he pushes her softly to the bed, stepping at the same time out of his shoes, getting rid of his pants.

She´s getting down on the bed, with the scarf still around him she tucks at it and draws him closer, draws him also onto the bed. She can see how aroused he already is. Lust and passion gleams in his eyes, making them darker and shinier at the same time. His chest rises and fell fast, his breath panting. His stiffened member is pointing at her, pressing against her as he comes down to her. She really likes it, how impressive it is, likes to feel and taste it, how perfectly he fills her every time, how strong he is within her. It is just amazing every time, he is amazing every time. She can never get enough of him. He is her first man and there will be never another one.

“You want to play with that scarf?” he´s asking breathlessly.

Short the image of what he can do with the scarf flashes in front of her inner eyes and it makes her shivering. She´s nodding slowly, taking a deep breath.

He takes that scarf, roses on his knees and draws her with him. “Turn around.”

She shiveres again at his voice, his commanding tone. She is lucky to already sitting, in another way her knees would have get so weak that she would have loosened the ground beneath her. She turns her back to him, waiting with anticipation.

He takes her wrists on her back and binding the scarf around them, seeing with relish how she trembles. “Is it that what you want to do with the scarf?” His voice only a deep, hoarse whisper, a low hot moan at her ear. She´s nodding and trembling again. One hand lies on her hips; with the other one he caresses her breast, his lips at her neck and ear. He always has loved her breasts, feeling its weight in his hands, feeling the soft flesh, kneading and massaging it, to feel how her sweet rosy buds hardening, how her breasts perfectly filling his hands. It is as if they are only created for him, for his hands.

She is lying the head in her neck; a deep moan escapes her lips. She is moving her hips against him restlessly, her hands on her back touching his belly, her fingertips moving a bit more down. She wants to touch him, touch his skin, feeling the muscles beneath it, feeling more than his hands and lips. She sighs as his lips caressing her neck, kissing the thin skin, tenderly bites and licking over those spots, his hot breath on those wet spots. A high pitch sigh escapes her lips as he pinches her buds, rubbing eagerly her thighs against each other. She can feel how she is getting wet, how the excitement grows in her, with every touch of his hands, with every stroke of his tongue.

He moans against her skin, his hands getting firmer on her body, kneading harder her breasts and her hip until the one of his hands slowly goes down, pressing her thighs apart and rubbing the inner, sensitive side. He´s playing with his fingertips on her inner thighs wandering up and buries them with a low moan in her little curls. He is dipping one finger into her, feeling how hot and wet she is, how ready she is for him. He´s gasping by the thought that only he makes her so wet and hot. That she only gets excited because of him. Hearing her voice drenched in lust and greed, moaning for him. He pushes a second finger into her, thrusting them slowly in and out, taking his thumb to caress her most sensitive spot.

She´s moving on his hand, riding his fingers, panting and sighing. She wants to feel so badly more than his fingers down there, inside of her. She tucks at the scarf, it made her desperate and arousing even more at the same time.

He rubs his hardness against her back, rubbing back and forth, drawing more sounds of desperation from her until she moans his name, until she begs him.

She can´t wait any longer, she needs to feel him inside of her. She´s sighing and moaning his name, begging him to go further, tensing around his fingers and brings him to growl.

“I need you so badly right now, my dear wife…” His voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper at her ear. He can feel how she trembles and shivers at his words. “Do you feel how badly I need you?” He smiles as she nods eagerly, as she begs again. “You can´t wait any longer, right? So impatient, my dear sweet Sigyn…” A lustful shudder runs through his body as she whimpers his name. With his name on her lips she is getting him always.

 

He pushes her knees further apart, taking his fingers back and bending her upper body down onto the mattress. She is shivering with anticipation, turns her head until her cheek is pressing in the blanket. Still with her hands on her back, not being able to touch him, not to lying her arms around his neck and pressing herself more against him… She whimpers in desperation and excitement at the same time. One hand at her hip, the other one squeezing gently her shoulder. A low cry escapes her lips as he finally enters her with a single stroke, resting deep inside of her, enjoying that sweet moment. She is panting, trying to take a deep breath like he also does. He enjoyes it, her wet warmth, how her silky walls are shuddering around him, her heated skin. He has to bite his lower lip as she whimpers his name, pressing her hip against his.

He is grunting as he starts to thrust into her, his pace slow and deep at first. He enjoys her sounds of pure lust and passion. Those sounds that are telling him how big her greed after him is. Those sounds with her lustful voice. He would never have enough of her. He voice drenched in passion is like a drug to him, like her wet and hot body. It is a pure bliss for him. Her body is like a temple and he loves to worship it. Every little part of it. Over and over again. It doesn´t take long until he pulls her up on her knees, increases his thrust. He has to taste her neck again, her skin, needs his lips on it. He nibbles at her neck, licks over it and sucking the skin between his lips so hard that she would wear there little sweet mark of his passion tomorrow. But he knows how much she loves it to wear his marks, when he marks her as his own. Her fingers are scratching over his lower belly, bringing him to groan and grunting at her neck, biting and thrusting a bit harder.

She lies her head in the neck, welcoming his mouth, how he devours her with it. She believes to loose all her senses as he takes his fingers to increase her passion even more, pressing and encircling her swollen, lustful bud until she´s bucking her hips against his, synchronic to his rhythm. She´s panting his name, moaning and whimpering it. He can do this for hours to her and still she would beg for more.

He can feel how her walls are shuddering, her thighs trembling as she comes closer to her climax. He´s pressing himself harder into her, growling her name, growling how he loves to feel her this way, that he is possessed by her. His dark, hoarse voice whispering to her how much he needs her needs her to be even able to breathe. She is his soul, his heart, the reason why he lives. He truly can´t have bear it any longer without her. Not only because of this act of passion, but more for her presence, simply to have her near, listen to the sound of her voice, how she breathes.

His voice is too much for her to bear. She tightens and shudders around him as she´s coming, as she reaches her peak, screaming his name. Her fingers digging into his flesh, bringing also him to his peak. He rides out their orgasm, slowly and with relish until he´s resting in her, his arms embraces her, pressing her firmly against him and he doesn´t seem to ever let her go out of his arms. Both trying to catch breath again, their minds still dizzy. Now he just wants to hold her, hold her close to him. He leans his cheek against hers, kissing it softly. He swears to himself that he would give her the kingdom, the throne she deserves. She would be queen. His queen. 


End file.
